Songs of a Lightless Star
by Prewritesuccession
Summary: This is a series of small stories all told through the eyes of one girl. Through random sets of circumstances she meets many other school's boys' tennis teams such as Rikkaidai, Hyotei Gakuen, St. Rudolph, Fudomine, Yamabuki, and of course Seigaku, but not necessarily in that order. Please comment and make requests for whom she meets next!
1. Seigaku

I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door just after the bell. Before anyone could tell me not to run in the halls, I sprinted across the corridors, edging around everyone in the narrow halls and skirting around a few teachers who opened their mouths to yell at me. But I didn't wait to be punished and finally broke through the double doors of the school, stopping on the top step for only a second, breathing in the crisp autumn air and afternoon sunlight. Then, a flood of students pooled around me, pushing me within the flow of their current. Letting myself be carried along, I was soon deposited at the school wall. I watched as everyone squeezed through the one gate, pushing and jostling one to get the best seat on the bus or be the first one home.

Sighing, I stood against the wall and watched the pool of students slowly deplete, squeezing like ants into a hole through the gate leading out of school. Only when everyone else was gone did I finally make my way out. Just as I exited the gate, a voice cut through the empty square, stopping me short.

"No, give it back! That's mine!" Turning around, I looked for the source of the cry. I finally spotted it next to the tennis courts, near the changing room and away from the other boys in the club playing tennis.

"Please, it's my Dad's and he'll be really mad if I don't give it back to him!" I saw where the voice was coming from. It was a boy, probably a first-year, trying to reach one of those hand-held cameras in the hand of a second-year. He sneered down at the crying boy.

"You shouldn't have stepped on my racket," the second-year said, the video camera aloft, just above the other boy's head. "Now you have to go and put in a good word about me with senpai or else you'll never get this back," the guy sniggered, waving the silver machine high in the air, threatening to drop it.

Now, few things bug me in this world. Those things are physical contact, rap music, arthropods, dull pencils, and bullying. Especially when it's a 'senpai' and his younger comrade or teammate. So right now, my blood was on the verge of boiling.

I marched up to them, walking behind the kid with the camera and snatching it out of his hands with one sharp movement. Giving it to the first-year, he looked up at me with wide-eyes. I smiled at him then turned, flashing the second-year my _okay, now I'm pissed_ look. The other boy ran away and I heard him yelling for help. But I didn't care. I didn't _need _help.

"Who do you think you are, bullying underclassmen like that?" I tried to put as much venom in my words as possible. The kid had stepped on his racket. Big deal. The second-year looked at me in surprise, then sneered in that ugly way, curling his lip high in disdain.

"You're just a _girl_," he spat. I flushed harder. The one thing I hated more than bullying was sexism. "Keep your nose out of our business." I glared at him and felt my fists shake at my sides. My natural instinct was to start smacking at him like a mosquito. But the part of me that had been in the debate club for the last two years told me to calm down and look at the situation rationally. _Violence wouldn't help. Reasoning was the only way you can get someone to understand your argument._

I took a deep breath and put my angry power into my voice. The kid and a bunch of other tennis members circled us. I hoped they wouldn't interfere. This was _my _debate.

"You know, you're sexism isn't the issue here. The _issue _is how younger students look towards their _upperclassmen _for advice and a way to act." I dropped my voice on the last few words and hissed to get my point clear. "You are a _mentor. _You are an _example. Act like it._" The kid flushed and eyed the many boys from the tennis club around us. They were silently judging him through everyone word, every action, all because of me. I cherished this as a tiny victory. Then he turned back to me. Something in his eyes made me know he was serious and I almost didn't continue.

"Don't push me," he warned, fists shaking. I eyed his lack of control with disgust.

"The first rule of the art of argumentation is that you should never show your opponent your anger." I wondered if I should keep going; keep pushing until he snapped and started spitting illogical phrases of fire. _Wasn't this a debate?_ Not like he'd hurt me, or anything. I dropped my voice to a whisper again. "Now go and _apologize,_" I hissed, pointing at the boy with the video-camera at the edge of the circle who seemed startled to be drawn into this fight.

That was crossing the line for him. Being told to apologize to a _kohai _by a _girl_? This was a man's worst the second-year snarled, raising his fist and before I could react, he punched me hard in the face. Of course, I winced, not because of the pain but because of the shock. I didn't feel anything for a few seconds then it was suddenly like I had taken another Frisbee in the face like that one time in third grade. It was numb, then hot, then cold. _Did it hurt?_ It was strange because I couldn't really tell. It was just hot and cold. Hot and cold.

I touched my eye gently and resisted the urge to punch him back. Instead I took a few deep breaths and just said, "Go and apologize. Violence _isn't _your best friend when speaking to people who know how to use their words." I shrugged on my backpack and wobbled off, clutching my numb face. With a dry smile, I heard a voice behind me stutter out an apology and soon following that was someone demanding fifty laps around the courts.

Soon as I neared the wall, a pattern of footsteps echoed behind me.

"Miss?" I turned around and looked with my good eye. It was two of the boys from the club. I recognized them as both seniors; my age. I smiled like there was nothing wrong.

"May I help you?"

They exchanged a glance that read, _Uh, lady, if you didn't notice, you just got sucker-punched in the face and I think you ought to be at least just a little bit concerned for yourself. _But they were polite and didn't say anything about my 'oblivion.'

"I apologize for my team member's behavior," one I recognized as being the captain said, bowing slightly. I just laughed and waved it off.

"It's not his fault human nature's flawed." I said it not as an insult but just a statement. Just a fact. Debates were full of facts; they were based off of facts. Well, facts and premises.

The other boy took a step forward, an ice pack in his hands.

"Please, come and sit for a little while," he said, handing me the pack. I shrugged like it was worth a shot and took it, pressing it onto my bruised eye. The numbness was just starting to fade and the increasingly burning heat suddenly went cold as the plastic touched my tender skin.

"I'm Oishi," the guy who handed me the ice said. Oishi was about half-a-head taller than me, with round eyes and a calm disposition. His hair was a weird style of shaved on the bottom and buzzed short on the top, with two tiny wisps of bangs left to hang in his face.

"Tezuka." The captain shook my good hand as we walked back to the courts, his strangely bronze hair looking shiny in the fall sunlight. They sat me down on a bench outside of the Regular's court and I sat, watching them of all practice. I wasn't a stranger to tennis; for a good portion of my freshmen year I had been on the team but didn't feel too satisfied just picking up balls. It was like that for badminton, judo, volleyball, basketball, ping-pong and basketball. The only club I had stayed with was choir and half the time I didn't even attend practice.

I sat in silence for the next few hours, holding the pack to my eye long after it had gone cold. Closing my eyes, I let myself be washed over with the sound of impact in a ball hitting a racket. Even though I couldn't see, as I listened quietly, I sensed some people starting to watch me. They probably thought I was sleeping. After a while, balls stopped bouncing and the thick, grating sound of metal on metal told me the latch on the gates was being undone. They were leaving the courts.

"Eh?" I heard someone exclaim. "Who's this?" Keeping my eyes still closed, I decided that it would be useless to do anything. Questions would lead to more questions and they would just waste oxygen. I felt the person's breath on my face as he came closer. "Nya, she's kind of cute," he whispered, trying not to 'wake' me. I tried not to flinch. No one's called me 'cute' since I was five.

Only when someone lightly touched my shoulder did my eyes flash open.

I slapped my shoulder lightening fast where his hand had been, startling everyone around me with the sudden movement. There were a circle of guys around me; the Regulars. It didn't make me uncomfortable that they were all staring. That was one of the things that didn't bother me: attention. I didn't _crave _it; I just wasn't scared of judgment, I guess you could say.

"Don't...touch...me..." I hissed, though not unkindly. The boy whose hand I had just barely hit was a guy with light brown hair. My eyes softened when I saw how alarmed he seemed. "I have..." I thought for a second before speaking again. "Personal space issues." He nodded, eyes still wide. Oishi stepped into the circle.

"How is your eye?" I reached under the ice pack and gingerly touched the bruised flesh near my right eye. I could blink; the bruise wasn't over the eye but lower, near my cheek. I supposed that one giant, puffy cheek was better than having one giant, puffy eye.

"Swollen," I responded. "Numb and..." I made a face. "Really squishy."

Tenderly rubbing the sorest spot, I felt something wet. Pulling out my hand, I saw it was a small smear of blood. The one called Oishi pounced on my eye like my mother. He took the not-so-cold cold-pack and everyone collectively gasped.

"What?" I asked in alarm. "Is it that bad?" _Was it one of those nasty black eyes that are all purple and black-looking? _I imagined myself with one of those stuck on my face like dark paint. People wouldn't mess with me that was for sure. But no one really messed with me now.

Instead of answering my question, Oishi pressed another fresh ice-pack onto my eye. "Come with me," he said, gesturing at me and started walking towards the warm-up room. I shrugged and followed, stretching and strolling casually after him. When Oishi opened the door, not many people were in there anymore. They stood around talking and quickly left when we came in. Maybe it was because of Oishi. Maybe it was because I was a girl. After all, this _was _a changing room.

Oishi reached up on one of the cubby-cabinets and dug through a first-aid box. I spotted a small wall-mirror on the other side of the room. The other Regulars came in too, either watching Oishi play doctor or waiting for us to get done so they could change. I walked up to the dirty glass and hesitated. Did I really want to see it? Even the guys had been pretty freaked out. In my moment of uncertainty, I made a split decision and ripped the pack off of my face, revealing my eye for the first time.

Instead of gasping, I just smirked. The bruise was pretty small, a streak of light purple flecked with green just under my eye. A small scar was open above the blemish, barely curving around my eye. A small mark where the guy's fist had connected left a faint border of red and violet near my nose. Otherwise, I thought I looked totally fine.

I gingerly touched the tender skin and Oishi came to me, a tube of something that resembled toothpaste in his hand.

"What do you think?" he asked nervously. _They must think I'm one of those girly girls who cry when one perfectly plucked eyebrow falls off. _I hope you know this already, but I am most _definitely _not one of those people. Instead I moved closer and examined the strange color pattern. Yeah, I know. Who looks at a bruise's color pattern? Well, it was interesting. Even kind of pretty, in that natural, blemish-kind-of-way.

Pulling away, I breathed out heavily and shrugged. "It's a shiner," I said, saying it like my bruise was a type of fish, not a type of injury. Oishi gently took my cheek (I tried not to recoil) and lightly probed the area. He put a small dab of the white paste on his finger and rubbed it gingerly across the wound. Handing me a small piece of bandage, I looked back into the mirror and stuck it lopsidedly on the small cut around my eye and stood back, admiring myself. The white of the paste and bandage made a strange-looking ring around my right eye.

"I look like a dog," I stated, stretching out the skin around my bruise. It wasn't numb anymore, but was just sore. It felt like, well, a bruise. Satisfied, I clapped my hands together and turned around. "Well, it's late." I smiled wide and stepped out of the room.

"Nice to meet you all," I called, waving back as I walked across the school yard, breaking into a jog as I saw the late bus clear over the crest of the next hill. "Oh, and by the way, tell the guy who hit me that he should be seriously considered for anger management therapy!"

"Wait, what's your name?" I heard Oishi call behind me. I sprinted for the approaching bus.

"It doesn't matter," I called back. "It's the thought that counts!" I hopped on just as the doors closed, wondering if he understood what I was saying. Shrugging, I made my way to the back of the bus and sat down. Maybe I'd like Seigaku. But Mom told me I'd be "auditioning" for a lot of other private schools, so I wasn't quite sure yet.

Smiling, I decided it didn't really matter. Just as long as I got the chance to bug the crap out of someone else.


	2. Hyotei Gakuen

Maybe it was the many snotty students. Maybe it was the irritable teachers. Maybe it was my being kicked out of the debate team my first day. But all I knew was that even though this was just a sit-in; an observing of how school here would be like, I absolutely hated Hyotei Gakuen.

I kicked up a small pile of orange leaves and noted how nice the weather was. As a child, I called fall 'healing weather,' thinking the trees shed their leaves just to grow new, better ones.

"It's good for your heart," I had sagely told my older brother.

But right now, I wondered how I had been so naïve and pondered why my mother's former school had treated me so badly. This morning, I had touched the manila-colored jacket and smiled. It was a nice uniform; a sharp, light jacket over a plaid skirt that was just long enough to still be debate-appropriate. I had slipped still slipped on a pair of hose (just in case) before putting on the stockings. This was the new student's uniform and I was borrowing it for today. My mother wanted me to check out all of the schools around our area and decide on one in the end. The problem is we lived right in the middle of a whole lot of private schools.

After a day of stink-eyes, snide remarks about my black eye (an interesting story), and threats to send me to the principal's office, the day had finally ended. The only reason I hadn't left at the first insult at me was the speech and debate club. This school was one of very few with competition participation and I was eager to see how good everybody was.

After school, I sat in the pristinely clean chair (everything here seemed to be shined, polished, and primped) and watched as student after student slowly came pooling in, all chatting about the day, complaining about homework, or discussing their cases. When the final bell rang, beginning the various clubs and activities happening around school, a girl in the front stood up, walking behind one of the two shiny podiums standing at the front of the room. I guessed she was captain, because everyone else suddenly rapt into attention and shut up.

"Hello, everyone," the girl said, looking around the room. There weren't many people; just about three dozen out of the thousand-something number who attended Hyotei. I was slightly disappointed. A small club usually meant a large number of people either uninterested or unimpressed with this school's speech and debate team.

"Well, today we are starting our mock debates and speaking practice today," she started again, eyeing the class with skepticism and distrust. "I hope you all have your cases and speeches ready."

Looking around, I saw people either groan or sit up straighter and pull out binders and stacks of papers. _They must've been doing this for the last few days I wasn't here, _I thought to myself. I didn't have a case or anything prepared and thus wouldn't be able to debate or speak. I only felt vaguely upset about this turn of events. It was just mock-debate and practice speeches.

"Everyone get into their groups and start!" The girl said then stepped down and everyone started shuffling about into little pods of six to seven people. I sat in my desk, unsure of what to do but perfectly content to do nothing. The captain spotted me and came over. Looking closer, I saw the girl's eyes were black to match her short hair, and her shoulders were straight like someone held a ruler to her back.

"Who are you?" The girl asked, not unkindly, yet still not kindly. I blinked up at her.

"Kira," I replied. "I enjoy speech and debate but since this is my first day, I don't have anything really prepared."

"Rin," the captain replied, shaking my hand. I raised an eyebrow at her firm grip that she took my hand in. Rin turned her dark eyes on me, as if daring me to try and grip harder back at her. I decided that wouldn't be the wisest decision, as she was the captain and I was just a new novice (in her eyes) that doesn't know anything.

"Kira, if you don't have anything prepared, then maybe you should try Impromptu speech with me. Oh, that means we give a topic and have seven minutes to prepare and deliver a speech." Rin knew I understood what Impromptu was; I could tell in her dark eyes there was something close to a sneer. She didn't have to explain speech to me. But here, I guessed she did this to all new recruits even if they'd done this before. Rin just wanted to show us who top dog was over here in the big bag team of junior high speech and debate.

Instead of starting a staring match of black eyes against gray, I just shrugged and took off my backpack. "Sure," I responded. "Sounds like fun."

Ren smirked and walked me over to a small group huddled in the corner, discussing something while waving around a stack of papers. They immediately quieted and shrunk back when Ren and I approached. I eyed the captain with respect and disgust. I respected her because it seemed everyone feared her. I was disgusted by her because it seemed everyone feared her.

"Everyone," Ren said gesturing to me, "this is," she turned to me expectantly.

_What, you can't finish your own sentences?_

"Kira. I'm Kira."

"Right. Well, Kira will be joining our team and since she's got nothing prepared, I'll be her opponent in Impromptu, today." I heard everyone who was listening gasp and come closer. Drawn by the growing crowd, everyone else started breaking out of their teams and gathered to see what the commotion was. Soon, we were surrounded by a flock of speech and debaters, looking pale and worried for us. No, worried for me.

Ren clapped her hands together happily, already walking towards one of the two podiums at the front. "Well, then, let's get started," she called, Turning back at me, Ren's dark eyes flashed me a look that said, _Come and let me prove to everyone once again that I'm the best. _I shrugged like I had better things to do and sauntered up casually, drumming my fingers along the polished wood of the podium. Out of the corner of my eye, Ren's pasty face flushed an ugly shade of maroon.

Who did she think she was messing with? I had dealt with people like Ren. The best thing to do was _not give them what they wanted_; a reaction. I casually leaned on my elbow and threw a lazy glance at her.

"So, what's the subject?" I asked, trying not to seem worried. Inside, however, I was beginning to develop a small pit of anxiousness. What if Ren was as good as she was intimidating? Straightening and rolling my shoulders, I told myself not to get psyched out. Impromptu wasn't my specialty, but thinking on my toes was one of my fewer talents. It was also very good for getting you out of trouble as long as no solid evidence was pointed in your direction. (another interesting story)

Ren flashed her gaze at the 'audience' which were the students in the club and some who had come in, spotting something possibly interesting and maybe even violent. A large group of tennis boys sat in the back among the wide-eyed speech and debaters who watched the spectacle like it was a show.

"Bunko," Ren snapped suddenly, startling a small girl sitting at the front of the room. Her short, pink pigtails bobbed violently as she sat up straighter.

"Y-yes, Ren?" Ren's eyes flared as if she were appalled that Bunko dare address her. Maybe Ren was going to suddenly sprout bat wings and go then claw out her eyes. Bunko seemed to think along the lines of the same thing, because she shrunk back in the seat.

"You will be our judge," Ren said, her normal, stern posture gone and in its place impatience and irritation. "You'll decide whose speech is better. Mine," Ren glared, "or _hers._" She grinned at Bunko who I feared would start bursting into tears any minute now.

_This was too unfair to continue. _

"Ren," I started, making her head snap angrily in my direction. "Perhaps this isn't the best choice as a judge for us," I pointed, gesturing at Bunko who shot me a terrified glance. Leaning towards the poor girl, I smiled gently at her. "I think you'd have a slightly biased point of view, don't you think?" Bunko hesitated and gave a quick nod then shrunk again under Ren's evil eye.

Putting my hands out like this issue couldn't be helped, I used my most apologetic voice. "Sorry, Ren. Looks like someone else should judge." She flushed an uneven magenta and breathed heavily through her mouth.

A voice came out from the audience. "I'll judge." Looking at where the speaker was, I saw a boy with light brown hair and blue eyes, sitting at one of the desks with the bunch of other guys in tennis uniforms. Looking closer, I noticed that they were Regular jackets. I shot them a wary look. My previous run-in with boys' tennis Regulars had given me the bruise I now sported just under my right eye.

I glanced over at Ren to see how she felt about this turn of events and paled. A giant smile was plastered on her face and the pastiness of her skin was now normal and as pasty as ever. The little ball of worry in the pit of my stomach started growing again.

Ren turned her grin at me and flashed brilliant teeth that I was half-expecting to be fangs.

"Then let's begin." Her dark eyes reflected me and my worry. They seemed to say, _I'm better than you and there's nothing you can do about it._

Usually in Impromptu everyone in that category is your opponent. Now, apparently Ren and I were against each other, fighting for fear, respect, and bragging rights. We drew slips of topics out of a hat. Little Miss Priss's slip was probably something good, because the queen herself smiled that awful smile of hers. I flicked her satisfaction off like a fly and drew my own topic with hands that I was annoyed to realize were shaking.

_**Explain the most important lesson of your life so far.**_

I let my lips curl into a smile; not a nasty, self-satisfied smile like Ren's, but a pleasant smile that I hoped was small enough to not be proud yet distinct enough to show my happiness. I was handed a note-card to prepare and the girl who gave me the paper flashed me a quick smile. She wanted me to win. Looking up, I gazed into the eyes of everyone who'd been bullied by Ren and her stature. They all wanted me to win.

The timer started Ren's seven minutes and she scribbled down what seemed like a page of notes crammed onto the tiny card. I clucked under my breath. This was Impromptu. The point was to think quickly not write out your whole case. At the four minute mark, Ren started to speak.

When she first started, I had been slightly worried. Apparently, Ren's topic was what the most pressing matter for her future was, and she answered money. I understood that; paying for college and adulthood, blah, blah, blah... But just the way Ren spoke was...well, just_ bad_. She'd talk fast and slur words then go back and correct them. With each of these little trips, her skin would flush a deeper shade of red and by the time she was done, Ren resembled a beet. She cracked a few strained jokes and only a few gave a half-hearted chuckle.

Her points were good and logical, but diction made up a large percentage of how someone would judge you. I just hoped the guy wasn't her brother or someone else who would give her a big advantage over me.

Afterwards, from the way Ren smiled at him with her flushed face, though, I knew I was probably wrong. I got up and stood relaxed at the podium, not annoyed with the fact that people were watching my every move. Instead, I started to smile. I happily wrote my key points and concluding sentence in under a minute then jumped right to it.

_What was my most important life lesson?_

"As a kid, I loved to argue," I started then grinned a little wider. "Mind you, I was very good at arguing and would usually outsmart the other kids who wanted to, if you will, take me down. They said I shouldn't be talking back to someone older than I was, but it was alright if I talked back to those _younger _than me." By now, my smile had faded. "How does that sound to you? It's like telling a man he can have this job with barely any prerequisites, yet a woman can't take the same job while having the same number or even more past experiences with the type of work. Does that sound justified to you?"

I went on to talk about mentors and senpai-tachi, about how those older were immediately our 'superior' or 'in charge' of us younger classmen. My central point was that everyone should be each other's equal.

My last few words were these: "Even if you may be more timid," I turned my eyes to Bunka who shied away, "or more intimidating," I swept my glance over the room until I rested my gaze on a smug-looking Ren, "or just plain unreasonable," the smile on her face wiped off. "We're all human and be the kind of person to treat others the way you want to be treated." I offered a small smile. "It's funny that this simple fact can really change someone else, yourself, and even the world."

I heard the tiny click of a timer and Bunka held up the watch for me to see. 6:52. I gave a breath of relief. Eight seconds away from disqualification. A small wave of clapping gave way to a cacophony of cheering and foot-stomping. Smiling, I stepped down and walked over to where Ren sat next to the boy who was judging. I held out a hand. Her face turned red again and I saw her hand flinch, but Ren turned away so I shrugged and took away my peace offering.

"We can spit fire at each other another time," I told her. Ren winced like I had slapped her but the anger came back.

"We don't know who won yet," she said angrily, though her words were edged with desperation. Ren turned to the boy and stood up then put a hand on his arm. "Come on, Atobe, decide who won." He blinked between Ren and me then smirked, closing his eyes and putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose.

"You may be my ex-girlfriend, but I still have to pick the better of two." Atobe looked up at me and smirked again. "And that'd be yours." He turned and looked at a large boy who resembled a brick standing like a body-guard behind him. "Right, Kabaji?"

"Yup," he responded.

I tried to feel victorious at my win but Ren was like a black hole of negative energy. Stepping away from her, I decided that she would soon either implode or explode, and either way, all that energy would fly out and somehow give me another black-eye.

Ren stuttered and sputtered, her face a scary maroon that's only reached if you're either face-painted or dying. "Ex? _Ex? _You're breaking up with me?" I raised an eyebrow. _He just broke up with her?_ That's cold.

Deciding to get away from this soon-to-be mess, I skirted through the mob of other tennis Regulars and was at the door when Ren finally realized I was leaving. She marched up to me, pushing a guy with strangely purple hair (wait, my hair's light blue, so I can't really judge) out of the way.

"You," she hissed. Everyone turned to watch us so I put on my poker face and tried to act smooth.

"Me," I responded. Ren spat sparks like a robot. I could imagine her brain, gears shredding each other into little swirls of scrap metal. Her eyes had murder in them.

"_You ruined me,_" she whispered. Then, raising her voice, Ren announced for the whole world to hear, "you're kicked out of our team!"

I struggled not to act annoyed at that. Debate was one of the few things that really made me feel...right. How dare she march up and take that away from me? My fists shook but I was impressed when I calmly voiced a complete, utterly, convincing lie. "Get it into your brain: I don't care about you or this club."

Marching out of that classroom felt good and bad. It felt amazing to know I had the courage to stand up to a modern witch and give hope to dozens of her frightened minions. It felt bad because I loved debate and in a way, Ren had obliviously won today even though I had creamed her during the Impromptu.

Also, I forgot my backpack.

But now, I know it's too late to go back in there. It would be Ren in the middle of a whole club of her angry minions- Oh, wait. I mean teammates. I could go back later, but I couldn't go home without my backpack yet. So where was I going?

Heavy footsteps pounded behind me and I heard someone yell.

"Hey,cgirl!" I turned around in curiosity and annoyance.

_Hey, girl?_ What kind of greeting was that?

It was Atobe the ex-boyfriend and Kabaji the brick along with their teammates. Instead of being annoyed at him, I just turned the greeting back at him.

"Hey, boy!" He looked at me in surprise then smirked and caught up to me. My backpack was in his hands.

"Listen, Ren's in a spill, so I wouldn't go back in if I were you." Raising an eyebrow, I took my bag and swung it over one shoulder.

"Of course, because I was going to go back in there and watch her go all tyrannical on all the members, thank you very much." Turning, I walked away but heard them follow me. I wished they'd just leave me alone, but most people don't seem to like doing that.

The purple-head ran up next to me. "Look, Ren's cute but she's going to make your school year awful." I shrugged and decided to give them an honest answer to make them finally go away.

"Well, I'm just sitting-in with the classes today and I'm looking into other schools around here, too," I admitted. Purple-head blinked.

"Well, where've you already been?" He asked.

I flashed him a look of _don't ask it's none of your business _but in the end, sighed. Who could it hurt?

"Seigaku and here," I finally answered. Another boy ran up to catch our stride. His hair was a light gray paired with round brown eyes. I felt uncomfortably short standing next to him.

"Really?" The boy asked. "I think you should go to somewhere else besides here because of Ren, but you would've been amazing here too," he said kindly. I smiled and shrugged.

"Ren I can handle, but I'm still looking at a few more schools before I tie myself down to just one." Laughing, I shifted my pack. "But I'll definitely consider hard." And it was true. Between the crappy teachers, annoying jabs at my bruise and the debate club...um..._complications, _this school was probably on the bottom of my go-to list. But it was warming to know there were at least a few nice people.

"I'm Choutarou Ootori," the boy said, shaking my hand gently. "This is Gakuto Mukahi," Choutarou said, gesturing at purple-head. The other guys started coming up too.

"Atobe, as you already know," Atobe said with another smirk. "This is Kabaji." He nodded, facial expression drearily unchanging.

"J-Jirou Akutagawa," another boy murmured with a yawn.

"Hello. I'm Yushi Oshitari," one with deep blue hair and round glasses said.

I learned that a boy with a blue hat worn backwards was Ryou Shishido and Wakashi Hiroshi was the one with stringy bronze hair. We exchanged a little small talk about Ren and the sports teams before settling down into an uncomfortable silence.

Some smiled politely while others openly showed their eagerness to leave. Wakashi kept peering behind him at something and I realized that it was the tennis courts. _Of course!_ It was during their club time and they were all probably going to get in big trouble for ditching it, them all being Regulars and everything.

"You should get to practice," I pointed out then smiled. "It was nice to meet all of you." As they left, only Ootori stayed behind.

"What year are you?" he asked. "I'm second."

"Me too." He smiled and looked back at his team.

"You should come back," Ootori said, startling me. _He wanted me to come back?_ But when I got over it, I grinned.

"I will," I promised as he ran back to join the rest of his team.

And for the first time in a long time, I noted how nice autumn felt on my heart.


End file.
